Memorable
by MelodyPond77
Summary: Oliver Wood was memorable. One of the youngest players in the Scottish Premiership, every woman from the age of 12 to 25 knew and loved Oliver Wood... No one knew his secret, but everyone wanted it. Muggle! AU KBOW


**QL Bats Chaser 1 - Go Wild Round!**

 **OTP Competition Round 2 - Con Artist**

 **WC: 2,998 words (W/O A/N stuff)**

1\. (restriction) no spell can be cast, or mentioned, in your fic

6\. (word) evasive

14\. (quote) 'I drink to make other people more interesting' - Ernest Hemingway

* * *

Oliver Wood was memorable. One of the youngest players in the Scottish Premiership, every woman from the age of 12 to 25 knew and loved Oliver Wood. There were photos of him plastered on t-shirts, posters, footballs, flags, and a variety of other merchandise, which his fans happily wore to each Puddlemere game. He gave interviews, smiled out of every magazine, and yet was still the most enigmatic player the press could find. No one knew his secret, but everyone wanted it.

Katie Bell, on the other hand, was as unmemorable as unmemorable could be. She was small, blonde, and fairly pretty, but her face blurred in the minds of those who saw her until they couldn't quite remember if her hair was blonde are honey brown, or if her eyes were blue or grey, or how short w _as_ she exactly. They could never quite remember her face, and that was alright with her, because that way she couldn't be caught.

But in the meeting of these two enigmatic beings, something very memorable was going to happen. For both of them.

* * *

"Oliver! Oi, Wood!" Robert said as he jogged after his team mate. "I heard it was someone's birthday on Friday, yea?"

Oliver grinned a little and nodded. "Yea, it's my 21st birthday, but don't go spreading it around! I wanted a nice quiet evening at home after the long week of practices."

Robert pulled Oliver to a stop. "You want a _quiet evening_ on your _21st birthday_ which falls on a _Friday_ which means _no practice?"_

Oliver shrugged. He wasn't really one for parties. "Well, yea, I mean if a few of the guys want to come over, that's fine, but I don't want a huge party. I'm just turning 21. What's the big deal?"

"Wood, it's your _birthday_ and you can drink and have sex as much as you want in practically any country now. If you wanted, mate, we could fly to America for the weekend and get completely wankered by telling people it's your 21st. But you can't just be an internationally famous football star and not celebrate your birthday, mate. It's _forbidden,_ or something."

Oliver shrugged again. "Look, mate, I really don't want something that big. It's so much effort..." he said half-heartedly, but Robert was already bouncing around.

"Oh it's no trouble! I'll organize it all, and you won't have to do anything. You don't even need to pay for anything. Just keep your plans and your house open on Friday night."

Oliver groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long Friday night.

* * *

"Katie, baby, why don't you do this for me?" Her boyfriend Marcus Flint grabbed her by the belt loops, pulling her back into his lap. Katie made a small noise of frustration and tried to stand back up again, but his hands were wrapped firmly around her waist. "Babe... why don't you stay with me anymore?"

"I told you, my mum is sick! I gotta do something to pay her hospital bills, Flint. I can't spend all my time with you," she snapped, yanking herself up.

"Babe, I told you I would pay you for your time," he leered, and she hauled back and slapped him.

"I'm not your whore, Flint. I may have lowered my standards enough to sleep with you, but I won't ever take your money."

His hands were around her waist again and his lips lowered to her neck. "You enjoy this, though, babe. You like it when I'm bad to you. Besides, my people help out your family. You wouldn't want your little brother to get hurt as soon as he's out of school, hm?" He flipped her around so she was facing him, pulling her closer until their hips smashed together. "Or someone to let it slip to the hospital that those insurance papers are fakes?"

"What do you want, Flint?"

"Besides sex?" He grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yes, besides sex. You know you're eventually going to get that, if only because you're the only shag I'm getting for a while."

"Fine. There's this party at one of my old friend's houses... I want you to break in and steal something for me."

Katie paused. They both knew she was amazing at stealing things, but she was trying to get out of this life, not further into it. The last time she had almost been caught, and she didn't want to risk so much with her mother in the hospital and her brother in need of a guardian.

"What do you want me to steal?"

"There's going to be a small glass statue of a woman, somewhere in his office probably. The woman is bending down and has her arms wrapped around a child. I want you to steal that."

Katie shrugged. Seemed easy enough. "Who is this old friend?"

"Oliver Wood."

" _What?!_ You want me to steal a statue from one of the most famous football players in Scotland? I'd have to be crazy to do it."

Flint grinned. "Or desparate. Which you are. It'll be easy. I got word he's having a party on Friday at his mansion. So all you've got to do is sneak in, go up to the office when everyone's nice and drunk, and then sneak out. It's a simple job on your standards."

Katie pushed him away and scowled. "Fine. But I swear, after this, we're through. You here me? This pays everything back."

Flint grinned. "Fine, babe. If you make me this happy, I swear, when I'm done with you, I'll let you go. But I don't think you're gonna want to leave after what I have planned," he whispered.

Katie shivered in horror and stalked out of his house. It was time to research one last hit.

* * *

"Ollie ma boy! Happy birthday, mate!" Roger called when Oliver arrived home to see hundreds of people in his house. He'd gone to the park to practice football, just to clear his head, and he realized he'd been gone much later than he'd thought. It was late enough that Roger was already smashed.

"Hey, Roger. Let me just clean up and I'll be right down, alright?" he said, edging away to escape. He ran upstairs to shower and put his things away, hoping he could avoid most of the party for as long as possible.

He was not looking forward to this night.

* * *

Katie got into the party easily. The bouncer took one look at her short skirt and the sparkles dotting the exposed skin of her chest and let her in. He knew the orders of "let in the worthy and the invited" from Roger meant "let in any girl hot enough to attract my attention".

She was hot enough to attract his attention.

Once inside, she slipped silently through the crowds, found a bathroom and swiped off some of her glamorous makeup. Once her appearance was a satisfiable plain, she exited the bathroom and started to look for a way up.

"Hey, pretty lady, can I help you?" a voice behind her said, and she turned to see Roger Hammens, football extraordinaire and teammate of the evasive Oliver Wood stumbling her way. He looked pretty drunk, but she didn't mind. Drunk people let a lot more information slip than sober people did.

"I'm looking for Mr. Wood's office... someone told me he was up there? I wanted to wish him a congratulations," she purred, stepping closer and batting her eyelashes. The football player grinned, his eyes raking up and down her figure, apparently liking what he saw as he stumbled closer.

"You don't want to bother with Oliver Wood. He's a silly boy who doesn't even like his own party. He's out there somewhere uncomfortably talking to people. You'd rather be with me, little lady!"

Katie pulled the empty present box from her purse. It was small enough to fit the statue and wasn't something people would be surprised to see in her bag. "I have a present for Mr. Wood from a very old friend of his... Perhaps I could just leave it in his office? Maybe then I'd have time for a drink before I go," she said, winking.

He grinned. "I'll take you there!"

"Oh, that won't be necessary, Mr. Hammens. Why don't you tell me which way to go and then go get those drinks ready?"

He grinned even wider. "Of course. You think right! Go up the stairs and to the left. It's the first door on your right. Don't be long now!" He stumbled away, presumably to get the drinks, and Katie hurried up the steps. She wanted to get in and out, fast, before anyone else decided to talk to her.

The office was silent, the heavy wooden door effectively masking the sounds of the revelry downstairs. The carpet was thick beneath her feet, and the room was dark and still. Pausing for a moment to let her eyes adjust, she looked around the room, and then realized her - or really, Roger's - mistake.

She was not in any sort of office. She was in a bedroom. A bedroom, she presumed, was most likely Oliver Wood's, seeing as there were soccer balls littering the floor and the bed looked slept in. She was about to back out of the room when she saw the statue.

She held her breath as she crept across the room. The statue was small, but it held it's own sort of charming beauty. It was made of carved wood, and it's paint had faded. It looked old. She hoped it was valuable.

It was smooth to touch, and somehow mesmerizing. Perhaps that's why she didn't hear the door opening, but suddenly, the light flicked on behind her and she was whirling around, the statue falling to the ground and landing with a dull thud on the floor.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" the man in the doorway asked, and as her eyes adjusted to the light, Katie realized it was the one and only Oliver Wood. "And what in the blazes are you doing with my mum's statue?"

"I-I-"

"Are you trying to steal it?"

Katie was silent. There was no use in denying anything; she had been caught red-handed. Besides, it was hard to speak when confronted with a ridiculously hot and half-naked football player, for Oliver Wood had clearly just emerged from the shower, given that only a towel hugged his waist and his hair was damp.

"You are trying to steal it, aren't you?" he scoffed, and shook his head. "Take a seat."

She sat.

"Alright, so I'm assuming you're a groupie, yea? So if I talk to you for five minutes, will you go away and leave my things alone? This is why I hate parties," he grumbled.

"What makes you think I'd be a groupie for you?" Katie said sharply, her temper flaring a bit at his arrogance. "All you do with your life is play sports. You don't understand the meaning of real work. You play a game and get paid thousands of pounds for it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Clearly not a groupie, then. Well, what are you? Girl with a vendetta? Sent here on a dare? Crappy con artist?"

"Actually, I'm a ridiculously _good_ con artist. The only reason you caught me is because you weren't where you were supposed to be!"

"Which was where?"

"At your own fucking birthday party!" She was getting mad now, mad at this arrogant bastard who pretended to know her, to know her story, to-

"Want a drink?"

"Excuse me?"

"I said, want a drink?"

She sat back. "I drink to make other people more interesting. And you, however arrogant, are not lacking in interesting."

He grinned. "You read Hemingway? So you're a well-read con artist. Interesting."

"Despite my career, I am intelligent. I'm simply down on my luck."

"Then what's your story? Why this statue? Why me? You'd be crazy to try and rob me. Do you know how much security I have?"

Katie smirked. "Of course I do. I know the blueprints to your building and the exact places of security cameras. I have a wire that screws any feed nearby and causes the cameras to malfunction. You weren't going to see me on your security tapes. And the only people here would've been too drunk to notice me. Besides, there are so many people in your house, how could they possibly remember one small, plain looking blonde?"

"You aren't plain," he said automatically, then blushed.

"Excuse me?" she said again. Oliver Wood seemed to be able to surprise her quite a lot.

"I said you aren't plain. I actually think you're quite beautiful. And you have very interesting eyes. Maybe that's why I didn't call security right away."

"Oh. Thank you, I guess."

"Now, tell me why you wanted to steal that particular statue. If you did your research, you'd know it was worthless."

Her eyes widened.

"So apparently you didn't know it was worthless? Did you simply make a mistake or is there someone else on the job who isn't giving you good information?"

Katie paused. She had a policy to never give up anyone she worked with. But Flint had made it clear over the past week that what she was stealing was valuable, and half of the money was to go to her to pay for her mother's medical bills.

And if Flint had lied to her about this... what else would he lie to her about? She suddenly wondered if she'd ever be free of the monster.

"Fine. There's another person on the job. He's my... boyfriend, of sorts, but he told me he wanted me to steal that statue. He said you were an old friend and it was valuable. And old."

Oliver shrugged. "It is old. Considering it's a wooden statue. And it is valuable. To me. It was my mother's, and she died when I was young. So yes, it has high sentimental value. But price wise? It's worth maybe fifteen, twenty pounds. No more. Who was this 'old friend' of mine?"

Katie narrowed her eyes. "Marcus Flint. Do you know him?"

Oliver shot straight up in his chair. "Marcus Flint?! I thought I'd taught that bastard a lesson a long time ago," he growled, then focused on Katie. "You said he was your boyfriend, of sorts? Has he ever hurt you? Are you alright? Is he trying to blackmail you?"

Katie was shocked at these questions, shocked enough that tears of surprise and overwhelming emotion for the young man who so readily cared about her sprang to her eyes. "I... he's helped me forge papers for my mother's medical bills. We don't have insurance, so he's helping to forge the proper papers and providing cash for the bills. He told me if I didn't steal it, the hospital would find out about the forgeries and he'd have my brother beaten up. So I had to try and steal the statue."

Oliver rubbed his face in his hands, shivering slightly, and Katie suddenly realized he still wasn't wearing much. "You don't have to go back to him. Call your mum and your brother, and tell them you're under my protection. I'll call the hospital and set things straight with them. Alright?"

Katie shook her head, dumbfounded. "Why are you doing this? I tried to steal from you. Why are you helping me?"

Oliver looked at her, closely. "I came from the same dirt you and Flint were born into. My mum worked hard to provide for me and my brother until she died when I was eight, and then my aunt took us in and worked twice as hard to provide for not only me and my brother, but also my cousins. If I hadn't caught the attention of a rich benefactor who paid to send me to college on a football scholarship, I wouldn't be where I am today. I'd probably be working right along Flint in a drug ring, or something. And I can tell you're a smart girl, just a bit lost right now. You'll pull through. How old are you, anyway?"

"I'm nineteen. For a month. But I wasn't able to go to college, so no university and no job will hire me. I'm not worth your time, Oliver Wood."

He looked at her with confusion. "Why wouldn't you be worth my time? If no one's ever told you this, I'm telling you now - you're worth something to me. I don't know you, you're right, and I don't even know your name, but you're worth something to me anyways. And I want to help you. Now, why don't you lie down and rest, and we'll talk more in the morning?"

She did as he told, too in shock at this surprising turn of events to argue.

"Goodnight..." he started, turning of the light on his way out.

"Katie. Katie Bell," she said, snuggling into his covers.

"Goodnight, Katie Bell," he said with assurance, and he flicked off the light.

And for the first time, with the scent of Oliver Wood around her, Katie Bell slept peacefully and without worry.

It wouldn't be her last.


End file.
